


There's Courage in Simplicity

by Solrosfalt



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: (I tap into explaining Ilyana's appetite once or twice but it's not the main focus), (only the characters with more than one line of dialogue are tagged), Awkwardness and Fluff, Conversations about Food, F/F, FireEmblemRarepairExchange2019, Getting Back Together, Gift Fic, Knight/Mage-relationship, Meet-Cute, One (1) Battle Scene, Time Skips, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 16:17:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18237275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solrosfalt/pseuds/Solrosfalt
Summary: Two very different hearts drift together, then apart. Neither are sure how to pick up lost threads when they meet again, as even the smallest things require an unfamiliar kind of courage.





	1. Light Blue Savior

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rozzlynn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rozzlynn/gifts).



> This work is gifted to @rozzlynn as a part of the Fire Emblem Rarepair Exchange! I had a lot of fun writing Tellius - it was my first time doing so. And now I've grown to love these two! (also want to write more tellius now, haha)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Ilyana should have known better than to walk too far when she searched for places to practice her magic. She didn't want to bother anyone, as always, but… Walking for a long while made the dinner tent… so far away…

Her steps just didn’t bring her any closer. Had the Greil Mercenaries moved the dinner tent after the Crimans joined? It seemed like it, since this was taking her forever— 

“Well, well, look at this cute little thing!” 

Ilyana had never been referred to as cute. Not since her aunt cooed at her as a baby. So Ilyana assumed that this smooth voice wasn't speaking to her (why would it be?), but then the voice went on. 

“You're a mage, correct? Those are scarce, in our regular circles. I'm Lucia, one of the Crimean knights. I wanted to thank you for joining our cause, and sharing your space with us!” 

Ilyana looked up. The speaking woman was about two heads taller than her, with hair long enough to touch the ground. She was clad in shining white, and the soft blue of her hair gave a contrast Ilyana had never seen before. Ilyana had very light hair herself, but she preferred to make it melt into the rest of her clothes instead of… sticking out. 

Ilyana halted, and merely stared at the Lady (she clearly was one with a capital L) before her. It took her a while before she managed to figure out she was being rudely quiet. 

“Uhm, thank you…” she said. “I'm Ilyana. I'm… Oh…” 

She shouldn't have stopped. Now her vision was swimming, and she'd never reach the dinner tent… 

“What's wrong? Are you all right?” 

“Yes", Ilyana said with a weak wave. “Yes, don't mind me… I just fall down sometimes… it's hard to keep up… I'm fine.” 

She wasn't sure what she was even saying, the words just blurred. 

“That’s no good!” Lucia went on, sounding genuinely concerned. It was a bit embarrassing, but Ilyana could barely stand up, much less leave. “If that were to happen on the battlefield, you’re as good as meat! You’ve got to stay fit and battle-ready!”

Ilyana squinted. What, did this woman imply that… she lacked _fitness_? That she lacked _muscle_? That just sounded like the opposite of a solution. If she couldn’t sustain herself like _this_ , how could she ever build any of those things?

“Yes… ma’am”, Ilyana forced out, just to finish the conversation, so that she could take another step, just get to that dinner—

“You’re sounding faint”, Lucia said, without stepping out of Ilyana’s way. “Hang on… Don’t collapse on me!”

Ilyana felt a pair of hands grab her by her upper arms, steadying her. She stuttered a breath. Her stomach hurt so much now, like it was trying to _eat itself_ —

“Let me help you”, Lucia continued, more desperately. “Let’s get you back to your tent!”

“No”, Ilyana groaned. “No, I can’t move… Hungry… so hungry…”

Her knees buckled, but Lucia held her steadily, and softly put her against a tent wall, taking off her jacket to put it beneath Ilyana’s head as a pillow.

“Is that it? When did you eat last?”

“I… don’t know…” Time wasn’t a real concept to Ilyana right now. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it might have just been hours. Her eyelids fluttered as she tried to keep them open.

“Oh, by the Heir… Wait here! Let me go fetch some food.”

Ilyana groggily turned her head, tried to focus on the shape of Lucia. “Really…?” she whispered through dry lips. “You’d do that?”

“Of course. What do you think you can eat?”

Ilyana’s heart swelled, as if that very prospect was enough to revitalize some of her. “I’ll take… anything…”

“All right. I’ll try to find something big and hearty to give you strength. Stay where you are until I come back.”

Ilyana couldn’t really respond, but she felt a relieved smile take place on her lips. _Big and hearty_. She’d never heard more beautiful words spoken, and not by such a beautiful voice, either. This Lucia... must have been sent straight from the goddess herself. So Ilyana mumbled a prayer of gratitude, as her mind drifted away.


	2. In a Mad King's War

Lucia wasn’t one to hesitate.

She wasn’t one to struggle.

She’d grown up surrounded by honor, secrets and chivalry. She always knew what to do, and when to do it. So, she was quite unfamiliar with the feeling of fragility. Her sword was an extension of her will, her will an extension of the codes she knew so well, and those codes were in turn an extension of _truth_. That was how things worked in her family of councilors and knights. That was how things worked in Crimea, the _true_ Crimea that was now merely sleeping beneath the heel of Daein.

That was how things would always be, for as long as her Lady and Princess, Elincia, was alive and fighting for her crown. And Lucia knew she belonged right beside that very princess, and never anywhere else.

Thus, Lucia was not used to being _mistaken_.

They might be on the run, and sleeping in the dirt together with mercenaries – honorable ones, surely, but mercenaries still – but Lucia had never felt like that had been a wrong choice on her part. She’d do anything for her Lady, anything that her gut was telling her to do.

So, this… Ilyana. She was a new experience, in more ways than one.

Because she stirred a fascination that Lucia vaguely recognized from when she was a little girl and other girls took her hands. Because she was very different from the people Lucia usually associated with. Because Lucia couldn’t quite grasp how her mind worked.

As all relationships start off, they’d met and they’d spoken. And after that, Lucia was used to having a clear opinion or a gut feeling she could trust. But in this case she’d met a girl – who was about her own age, but too short to reach Lucia’s shoulders, thin, frail, with a distant gaze – and Lucia had not at all known what to think.

It was only the second time they met that Lucia could come to some kind of conclusion. That this girl may keep to herself, and may have nearly collapsed out of hunger, and that both those things could be avoided with the right discipline. In short, Lucia had believed that she could help Ilyana. A suggestion which Ilyana herself had given an excited shrug – even her shrugs made no sense! Though no matter, Lucia had reached a conclusion, and a goal.

The rigorous training Lucia had known since childhood had made her strong. This Ilyana could use some of that strength for sure. She was, aside from her closed off aura, nice, polite, and heart-wrenchingly cute. And Lucia would hate to see her fall on some enemy’s sword.

 

But the thing was, the more Ilyana trained, the worse she seemed to get.

“Ilyana!” Lucia called after her. “Can you come back here for a moment?”

Ilyana, busying herself with jogging lengths under Lucia’s watch and gasping harder than a fish on land, turned to Lucia and obeyed.  She made her way toward Lucia, slowly, breath rasping.

This was how she’d been doing every time they’d gone to train, yet she still showed up.

“Yes?” Ilyana panted. “What is it?”

“I can tell you’re not feeling great…” Lucia hesitated, trying to puzzle together exactly what she must be doing wrong for Ilyana to look so hollowed out. The answer couldn’t be _more_ training… or could it? She continued, but unsurely; “But… Exercise is important. I still think you need to do this, but you just have to start out a bit slower! I don’t want you to strain yourself.”

“Yes…” Ilyana nodded, resting her hands on her knees. “I’ll try… That was… the fastest I could run… Maybe I should slow down…”

“Hah!” Lucia’s laugh slipped out before she could stop it. “That was supposed to be _running_?”

Ilyana glanced up on her, her cheeks reddening. “Well…”

It seemed Lucia was doomed to make mistakes. She cleared her throat. “…Er… Listen, Ilyana. I didn’t mean to be so harsh, I’m just... Not used to training people like you.”

Ilyana exhaled through her lips and hung her head a little. “That…  makes sense. There aren’t many like me, I don’t think… But I want to! I want to get stronger! When I practice magic, everything is so easy, but this…”

Lucia was torn in half at the sight of her. On one end, training _had_ to be good for her, but on the other… This wasn’t what exercise should look like. This wasn’t healthy exhaustion.

“Nobody is born great at everything”, Lucia said, her hand brushing the handle of her sword. “It takes hours and hours of practice to get better at something. So don’t feel bad when you don’t excel at something right away. Is that clear?”

Ilyana nodded, and straightened. She looked a bit unstable on her feet.

“I’ll keep on working on it with you”, Lucia continued.  “I promise! But right now… It seems like you need a break. Perhaps you’d like some water before you try again?”

“Actually…” Ilyana smiled for the first time since their training begun. “I’m a little hungry…”

“Food?” Lucia brushed her lip with her thumb, taking a moment to think of whatever provisions they had at the moment. “No problem at all. What would you like to eat?”

Ilyana waved her hand in a careful gesture, like she was clearing the air to make room for a suggestion. “Do you remember that meal you made me the other day, when I, uh, collapsed? That was so tasty… I’d love that again!”

Lucia couldn’t help smiling. “You liked it that much, huh? Then I’ll set to work making you another big helping! But… you have to run for it! Or… jog. We’re taking it slowly, after all!”

Ilyana closed her hand in a fist. “It’s a deal! Thank you… for everything.”

Lucia wasn’t sure she actually deserved thanks, but the eager spark in Ilyana’s eyes made her take it anyway. As if the attention from this reserved girl with kind eyes and soft hair was worth more than to her than gold.

 

\---

 

Lucia was truly lost whenever Ilyana was concerned. Lucia felt protective of her, but in a different way from Lady Elincia.

She felt devotion, excitement and fascination.

And hesitation. So much hesitation.

She finally had time to sit down with Ilyana and eat together with her, _before_ all the food disappeared. And she watched Ilyana gulp down bowl after bowl, holding her breath with the nagging feeling growing in her chest.

And shortly afterwards, they were out again, training. Not ten minutes had passed by before Ilyana leaned against a tree and spoke of food again.

“There are some leftovers, right?”

“Ilyana… You had five helpings.”

“Yes”, Ilyana groaned. “Not nearly enough… If there aren’t leftovers, maybe I could sneak in and take some of Soren’s food – he’s always forgetting about it when he’s doing his planning…”

“Five helpings”, Lucia repeated with disbelief. “Five… If left to your own devices, how much do you need to eat?”

“Seven”, Ilyana answered without pause. “Six, if we’re short.”

“Er…”Lucia couldn’t ignore this any longer. She needed answers. “You’re not a laguz, are you?”

Ilyana wrinkled her nose – in confusion rather than distaste, Lucia believed – and shook her head. Which was a pity, because if she was one of the laguz, her food intake would be considered normal. But as a human, and a rather small one at that…

“Listen, Ilyana… There has to be… something seriously wrong with you!”

Ilyana shrunk down, immediately. Merely stared at Lucia with wide eyes.

Lucia didn’t know how to proceed. “I’m sorry for my bluntness, but… I’ve put you through training for weeks and you’re not getting better, just worse, actually. This is very concerning, and… Maybe you should go see Rhys?”

Ilyana spun a lock of hair between her fingers. “I don’t… No, not really. It’s better if _you_ talk to him. He explains that stuff, better than I could.”

“Ilyana—“

“No, it’s fine! I’ll tell him he can talk to you about me. Uhm. Right now. Bye.”

“Ilyana—!”

The girl slipped away through the trees, and left Lucia with her arms outstretched. Her heart beating with guilt.

What a fool she was. She’d never be this clumsy in court, so why was she with Ilyana? It seemed everything Lucia did was make her feel worse? She had to choose her words more carefully, next time. Perhaps she could simply pretend like nothing happened, the next time they met for training.

 

Except, the following day, Ilyana didn’t show. Lucia stood with the wind in her hair and her sword at her side, waiting for what wouldn’t come.

She must have really offended Ilyana. And no wonder. Lucia knew how to speak to royalty with fanciful words, how to hold back and pretend when speaking to a backstabbing suspect in council, how to make blunt, powerful speeches. But she didn’t know how to speak casually with one such as her.

 

Ilyana didn’t show up the next day either, and Lucia felt simply awful. Maybe the only way to be on speaking terms again would be if Lucia actually did what Ilyana had asked her. Speak to Rhys.

She knocked on the pole holding up the healer’s tent flap, and Rhys called her inside. He was alone, and didn’t look busy, shockingly enough. Healers were otherwise always occupied.

“Ah, Lucia”, he welcomed her. “Ilyana told me I might expect you.”

“Er... Yes.”

“Her request was unusual, but from what I understand she doesn’t like speaking about her extreme hunger. It’s difficult to know what she thinks, little Ilyana, but she seemed concerned about this. Wanted that you should know the theories I have, regarding her. Would you like to sit?”

Lucia slipped down on one of the empty patient beds, and Rhys sat down on a stool beside her.

“Are you aware of why magicians use tomes to cast spells?”

“Yes. It drains the life from the book, instead of the caster.”

“Very good. Indeed, magic is a relentless force that will devour whatever energy it can find, and it’s a wonder that we have been able to tame it. And I think it’s no wonder when… abnormalities happen. Ilyana is self-taught, I assume you know?”

Lucia swallowed. Yes, that she did know, but not much else. Was it because Lucia simply hadn’t asked, or because Ilyana actively tried not to talk about herself?

“I think Ilyana has a special bond to magic. Something she was born with, and used too soon or too much or simply in an unlucky manner. And magic found a path through her, and constantly drains her. She’s magnificently strong to endure that, I can merely tap into some of the magic flow and get a grasp of how it works, but believe me when I tell you, it is no wonder she needs so much sustenance. This particular ravenous hunger might stem from the time she nearly starved to death, poor thing.”

 Lucia merely looked at him for a while in silence. “So… it is like a disease?”

“No, there are some diseases that affect hunger, but none match Ilyana’s case. Hers is more of a… state, really.”

“And you’re sure?”

“I cannot possibly be. It’s unheard of, but it’s the only explanation I can conjure. Ilyana seemed content with that answer, anyway.”

“All right, then.” Lucia leaned forward and frowned down on her hands. “Rhys… In your expert opinion, will my training only hurt her?”

“I couldn’t say”, Rhys said with a patient smile. “It might drain her more, but on the other hand, strengthening her body might help her keep the magic at bay as well. I have no grounds to make any recommendations, however, I don’t fear for her immediate wellbeing. This training will have to be a matter of what Ilyana herself wants, so you’ll have to ask her.”

Well, on that end, Lucia might have hit a dead end. She’d been so rude, curse her blunt tongue—

“Thank you, Rhys”, Lucia nodded at him, and shook his hand. “I won’t take up any more of your time.”

\---

The loneliness of waiting behind the storage tents at sundown was to be Lucia’s fate, perhaps. She should have lost hope of Ilyana reappearing here to meet her, ever again, but something had her coming back. There was still a small feeling of belonging here, even though her training of Ilyana had gone on for barely two weeks. It was a place where the soft movements of Ilyana’s face felt _close_ , even if she herself wasn’t there.

She knew she was being silly, but she stayed. If nothing else, she could keep guard of this perimeter, hold the line…

“Lucia!”

Recognition sparked in Lucia’s chest, and she turned to the sound of that voice.

 Ilyana had color on her cheeks when she trotted up to join her side. More color than usual.

“Ilyana?” Lucia stuttered forth. “Are you… here to train?”

“We had a deal”, Ilyana said, hugging her tome close. “And taking these two days off, I feel better than ever! My magic is stronger, and my body too! I only ate six-and-a-half helpings for lunch, and I felt full! It was the most wonderful feeling.”

Ilyana might not have spoken so many words at once, before. Not to Lucia, at least. It was almost overwhelming, but wonderful, too.

“Oh… So… The training’s working?”

“I think so…” Ilyana frowned, and looked away. “If I just… get to rest every now and again, maybe.”

Lucia smiled. For all her talk of going slowly, she’d still pushed Ilyana too far. She shouldn’t have had to speak to Rhys to understand that, but now that she had, she felt like everything made far more sense. She wasn’t alarmed by Ilyana’s special appetite, for starters. And looking back… She felt like such a fool for phrasing herself so brusquely.

“Are you angry with me, Ilyana?”

Ilyana looked honestly surprised by the question. “No! I just wanted to rest a bit, is all.”

Lucia arched a brow. So… she was not offended, then? Or did she try to cover that up, merely move on, as was a common tactic in compromise in courts?

She shouldn’t try to compare Ilyana to the court members, Lucia reminded herself. It would only be wrong.

“Well then”, Lucia said and crouched down. “You’ve made it this far, and I believe we can get through whatever this is together. I talked to Rhys, like you said. And I feel I should ask, is this what you want, too?”

“Together?” Ilyana fiddled with the edge of her tome. “Yes… That would make me happy. Training together, I mean. You make delicious meals… and you’re so beautiful, and strong… I want to be with you, Lucia… If I may.”

Lucia didn’t know what to respond. She’d heard such descriptions from a lot of people – men, mostly – but hearing it from Ilyana was very different. Just how everything was different with her.

Though _different_ in a way that warmed Lucia’s heart. Which was rare.

“Are you… er, strange question, but are you hungry? We might as well go get some food!” Lucia had panicked, and said whatever she could think of to direct the conversation somewhere else. She’d love to return to this conversation one day, but it was a bit fast. She needed time to think, first.

“I’d love to”, Ilyana smiled, and closed her eyes. “Your cooking… I can almost taste it…”

Lucia chuckled, before she could stop herself. “How about I make you whatever you want? But you had better train for it!”

Ilyana mirrored Lucia’s chuckle, though hers was low and steady. “Yes!” she laughed. “Oh, I’m so happy!”

Lucia shouldn’t try to hide how happy it made _her_ as well, but she decided that she’d do better to think things through, first. Though to her own surprise, she let open her arms. An offer for apology, for truce, and for… the sake of it.

Ilyana didn’t hesitate. They embraced, beneath the setting sun. Lucia’s innocent blue and white blended with Ilyana’s discreet violet and gray. Soft laughter carried on the wind.

Maybe Lucia didn’t need to think that long, after all.

 

\---

 

Lucia never forgot her duties, but they no longer occupied the entirety of her mind. A good part of it was dedicated to Ilyana, now. It wasn’t something mutually exclusive, though. Lucia could stand guard just as well with Ilyana on patrol beside her too, and she could keep her head cold in councils and battles and yet have her heart warm up when she lay in the grass afterwards, with Ilyana resting on her arm. She could carry the weight of her lady’s world, but listening to Ilyana sing ancient lullabies relieved her of some of that burden, and brought tears to her eyes.

They talked more than they trained, now. Ilyana had made progress – slow, but progress still – and didn’t seem to need Lucia hovering over her. She knew her own limits, knew when to ask for support and when to stand on her own two feet. Thus, their evenings became more leisurely.

Ilyana would tell her about herself. A simple villager, who had discovered magic and never thought it was difficult to bend it to her will. Because it was a part of her. A young girl who’d left her village in Daein to become a mercenary mage. A brave soul whose service no one wanted in a time of peace, and was left to starve in a ditch. Found by merchants, and now, welcomed by war.

Lucia tried to tell her that her story was amazing and fascinating, but Ilyana wasn’t that easily convinced. ‘ _It’s nothing compared to yours! You’re almost royalty, and you’re a knight, and—and the most wonderful person in this whole camp!‘_

Lucia’s story was a splendid one, yes. Full of brave deeds and cruel plots and world-changing decisions. But it wasn’t interesting in the same way Ilyana’s was. They were worlds apart, truly, both in origin and future, but that didn’t matter right then.

That didn’t matter when Lucia pulled a strand of hair behind Ilyana’s hair, and kissed her for the first time.

That didn’t matter when Ilyana rested her head against Lucia’s shoulder.

That didn’t matter when Ilyana broke free of her subdued expressions and jumped for joy when they overtook a fortress with its stock full of fresh fruit, flour and meat.

Didn’t matter when they feasted after reclaiming Crimea and put Elincia on the throne, where she belonged – although that was when Lucia begun to think of what would come _after_. When the Mad King of Daein was removed, and when the two warring kingdoms put their weapons down to rest – where would they go?

Ilyana was born of Daein, Lucia of Crimea.

Was that their future, too?

 

They talked less when they marched for the final battle. They kissed before they faced the impossible foe, and again when the impossible foe lay dead.

 

And after that, as the army under General Ike and Queen Elincia returned to Crimea to sign every treaty that was needed, Lucia knew where she belonged. She’d always known, but her conviction was strengthened when she witnessed her Lady and Liege cry over documents and longingly watch the sky. When Elincia fell asleep in her chair, when she bent down, overwhelmed by the responsibility of a queen, Lucia knew she couldn’t leave her.

“I’m joining Her Majesty’s council”, Lucia told Ilyana. They stood out in the courtyard, with hawk laguz circling above their heads and tiger laguz discussing their politics in every other corner. It was far from quiet, but it would be, soon. Everyone was moving back to where they came from, slowly but surely the restoration army would evaporate.

“Of course”, Ilyana said. “It’s where you belong.”

That was true, maybe. But… The dimmed violet of Ilyana’s hair and eyes, the sleepy little smile she carried with her – Lucia would miss that, so dearly. She lifted her hand and stroked Ilyana’s cheek.

Ilyana took her hand, squeezed. “Good luck”, she said. And they kissed again.

Ilyana was gone the next morning.


	3. In a Goddess' War

**_-3 years later-_ **

 

Every being had a heart aligned either with chaos or with order, so lady Micaiah said. If that was true, Ilyana wondered where she belonged.

Ilyana walked wherever she could find her next meal, and she fought for those who could provide. It was very structured, but also… chaotic, in a way?

She wasn’t fighting purely for her own personal gain, either. She was angry, too. Angry to witness those who suffered and starved, and determined to fight for them.

Daein’s soil could usually grant the stubborn farmer and the dedicated shepherd a yield enough to feed a village, despite the shallow, rocky earth and uneven cliffs of the land. Ilyana remembered that time like the haze of a half-forgotten daydream. _That_ Daein hadn’t existed for years. Not under the tightly clenched fist that the Empire of Begnion held over the domain.

Thus, wherever the rebels (the _Dawn Brigade_ was Micaiah’s name for them, and it was much prettier than ‘ _rebels_ ’) walked, they passed children doubled over in hunger. And it made Ilyana furious.

Ilyana didn’t care much for politics, if she was honest with herself. There had been one who was eager to teach her, three years in the past. The same one who would happily insist that there was no trouble in Ilyana being slow to speak and scatter-minded, the same one who would prop up a complete stranger against a tent wall and use their own jacket as a pillow when the said stranger had passed out from hunger.

The same one who would run, quickly as they could, to gather food and place a warm bowl in the weakened hands of a person she didn’t know. The same one who would sooth Ilyana into safety, and also believe in her ability to build strength.

 _Lucia_.

Thanks to her, Ilyana understood more of what was going on in Daein. But really, this so-called occupation wasn’t a question of moral gray-zones and complicated decision-making, the way Lucia’s world was. Ilyana saw her fellow humans starve, and that wasn’t _right_ , not from _any_ angle. No one should live like this, ever.

So perhaps Ilyana wasn’t merely driven by a selfish desire for a full belly (it wasn’t, these days). Perhaps Lucia had taught her a little bit more than just self-control and politics. Compassion. Well, Ilyana _had_ had compassion before, but now… That compassion fueled her, propelled her magic at the fiends who stood responsible for this oppression.

Was Ilyana of chaos, or order, then?

Healer Laura – she was one of Micaiah’s closest companions, so she knew a lot more of what was going on – said that only a few hearts were ever fully one way or fully the other. Order and chaos existed on a balancing scale, and none was inherently better than the other.

What mattered was everyone’s rights to a good life, and Micaiah said the _Dawn Brigade_ would never let neither the concept of order nor chaos steal that right.

And, Ilyana thought, Lucia would probably agree.

 

\---

 

Ilyana had never been bothered much by the concept of a past. What had happened to her had happened, and she’d never do well to dwell on things. Her head was in the clouds enough as it was.

So she’d never imagined that the _past_ would catch up with her like a punch in the face.

She’d thought hers and Lucia’s ways had parted, so when they once again aligned, when Micaiah’s _Dawn Brigade_ and Queen Elincia’s loyal alliance joined their forces in the messy midst of battle, Ilyana backed into hiding.

She observed Lucia only from a distance. Ilyana hadn’t recognized her, at first, not with her luminescent blue hair cut to her chin rather than her thighs.

Three years brought a lot of change, but it was still Lucia. Shining white knight, tall as a Lion Laguz, her silver sword resting elegantly on her hip.

Ilyana was still the same, too. Small, shy, distracted by the mere smell of food, and unsure how to start a conversation that didn’t revolve around it. Lucia probably didn’t remember her, even. Ilyana did best to cower, to stay back.

This war had to be over soon, after all.

  

Except it really, really wouldn’t be.

Almost the entire world was turned to stone. Statues had been crafted by the fury of a goddess. Sculptures in the middle of playing the flute, of chasing ducklings in a pond, of cooking their meals.

There was no solace in this empty, quiet world, and not even a few helpings of a warm stew could stir joy very long for Ilyana. It wasn’t a world one got used to. And it _definitely_ wasn’t a world where one could hide from the few people that had been spared of the goddess blast.

 

A few weeks after the goddess’ doomsday, their groups got even smaller. They had to fight their way through Begnion in fast and efficient elite forces from many different angles, in order to increase their chance of success.

“Go with Hawk King Tibarn”, Laura had smiled at Ilyana. “You’ll be that elite group’s only mage. So take good care of them.”

Ilyana could absolutely go with Tibarn. That wasn’t a problem; his two companions cooked delicious fish-and-chicken-rolls, and Ilyana had never met anyone who could make that combination work, aside from them. The _problem_ was that Elincia came with Tibarn too, and what followed Elincia, if not her dearest and most loyal friend?

A friend that nineteen-year-old Ilyana had just so happened to have kissed.

What could twenty-two-year-old Ilyana do to _not_ make that weird? It was impossible to cower in a corner, anymore.

The moment came when Lucia truly noticed her, and Ilyana’s chest surged with tense warmth.

Lucia met her gaze and, though surprised at first, smiled warmly at her, and Ilyana’s lips twitched back, before she pretended to be very deeply invested in her tome.

Was that weird?

 

Ilyana was happy every time she saw Lucia in the corner of her eye.

Was that weird?

 

A week passed, and Ilyana didn’t actually want to avoid Lucia anymore. Yet she still couldn’t bring herself to actually _talk_ to her.

Was that… weird?

It couldn’t be… Ilyana had wanted to become as strong as Lucia seemed to believe her to be. Or, as strong as twenty-year-old Lucia had believed nineteen-year-old Ilyana to be, rather. She’d trained, every day, slowly and steadily. Ilyana wasn’t rid of her extreme hunger, still, even though she’d made progress. She could survive on three helpings instead of five, now. But it wasn’t as easy as just something that could be weaned away. Compared to herself, she didn’t need as much as before, but compared to the others… Well, there were still jokes about her being a laguz in hiding because no human could possibly eat that much. Normally that wouldn’t get to her, but she was painfully aware of their rations.

 

They were closing in on a battle, considering the fanfare and drums down on the other side of the hills. This would be their last dinner before there was a clash, Janaff bitterly admitted as he gave Ilyana a half-full bowl of stew.

It wasn’t much of an occasion, so Ilyana slipped away as soon as she could. There was no way she could survive on that tiny bowl of stew alone, and no way she could live with herself if she stole any more of the supplies, so she went out in search of berries, or wild leeks, anything at all.

 

She’d returned feeling a little bit better and her breath smelling like wild onions. But as she sat down with a thunder tome in her lap, someone overshadowed her lantern by sitting down in front of her.

Ilyana looked up. Lucia smiled back at her.

“Ilyana”, she greeted.

“Hh”, Ilyana breathed in response, her tome forgotten.

“I’m…” Lucia clasped her hands, but her smile didn’t falter. “I’m sorry to have been kept so busy with my Queen’s needs; I haven’t even taken the time to speak to you. I’m ashamed to have waited this long, but it is good to see you again.”

Ilyana’s cheeks were warm. _She’d_ been the one to not start a conversation, Lucia had nothing to do with that. Ilyana was the shy one.

“Yes…” she answered. “Very good, you too.”

“Have you been well?”

Was _this_ weird? Ilyana couldn’t think of anything to say. They’d been at war. Ilyana had travelled along muddy roads, then captured, then been at war again.

“Yes”, she simply repeated.

“Oh, great”, Lucia smiled. A lock of hair had fallen down over Ilyana’s face, and Lucia caught it with her fingers, gently brought it behind Ilyana’s ear. Like she’d done before, before they kissed—

“You’ve changed a little”, Lucia continued. “You got a bit taller. And you smile less. I barely recognized you, but I’m glad I did. I missed talking to you, Ilyana.”

A few wild onions and half a bowl of stew weren’t enough for _this_. Ilyana simply stared at her, her mouth moving without words at first. Then, finally, she could make sound.

“I’m going to pass out”, she said, indifferently, as if she was announcing the prize of wares.

And then, in fact, she did.

 

\---

 

She awoke in the medical tent. Hours must have passed, because the darkness in the slits of the tent flap was intense.

Lucia sat by her side. Cross-legged, leaning her elbows on her knees and her face resting in her hands. Even in that hunched state, Lucia looked elegant and proud. Her eyes rested on Ilyana, and she freed her chin when she noticed Ilyana looked back at her.

“Rhys told me he’d detected quite a lot of plant poison in your system”, Lucia said as her greeting. “We thought we were under some sort of assassination-attempt at first, but we weren’t. You’ve eaten Ghostlilys. Why in the crown’s name would you, Ilyana?”

Oh. Ilyana had been pretty sure those onions had been Kippleberry ones, but she wasn’t familiar enough with Begnion’s flora to know that. All onions tasted bitter and sour when raw.

“Hungry”, Ilyana mumbled in answer, feeling her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“Oh, Ilyana”, Lucia whispered. “That truly hasn’t changed, then?”

“I’ve gotten stronger”, Ilyana insisted. ”My body still needs more food than is considered normal, but…”

“Why are you here, then?” Lucia picked up the thread as Ilyana trailed off. “If you can’t fight at your absolute best, the Senate’s soldiers will easily incapacitate you. You should stay back with Aimee tomorrow, don’t you think?”

Ilyana hoisted herself up to sitting, supported by a trembling arm. “I’m a mercenary! And I will _fight_ for my share of the provisions!”

“But you could get hurt”, Lucia countered. “You could... You could _die_.”

“Yes...” Ilyana said. “I... don’t want to do that. But I will fight, anyway.”

Lucia’s eyes sparked of intensity as she met Ilyana’s gaze. Ilyana wasn’t an expert on reading such things, but she thought for a moment Lucia looked... angry.

“It would be a pointless death”, she went on. “I... cannot let that happen to you. If you insist on fighting, I will be there to protect you.”

‘ _Pointless’_? What was she on about? Why was there still anger in her gaze?

It was then Ilyana was truly hit by that she had no idea what Lucia had lived through these last three years. They’d parted as Lucia was a part of Elincia’s court, and Ilyana hadn’t thought much more of what that meant. Her mind churned slowly, trying to pick up the thread of conversation again. She wanted to know. She wanted to know everything.

But she never got the chance to ask. Tibarn burst into the tent, his wings tearing down half the entrance.

“They’re marching through the night”, Tibarn gruffed at them. “Janaff tells us we’ve got an hour before they’re on us. Will you take to wing with us, tiny beorc?”

Ilyana only stared back at him with her mouth half-open. It took her far too long to understand he was addressing her.

“She will”, Lucia answered in Ilyana’s stead, already on her feet. “As will I, of course. Thank you, Hawk King. We’ll be ready, unless your talons have ended them before we’ve drawn our swords.”

 “Flattery”, Tibarn grinned at her. “You’re a beorc with good judgement, Lucia. Now, keep up!”

He transformed before their eyes, letting out a screech that chilled Ilyana’s spine. That was a war cry unlike any other. And then he was gone, the only thing that was left of him the swaying of the tent flap.

Lucia had smiled a little at his sudden appearance, but as she looked back on Ilyana, her smile faded a little.

“Are you certain, Ilyana? You could fight another day, when your belly is full and you haven’t just battled food poisoning...”

Ilyana got to standing as well. Her legs swayed a little, but they supported her.

“No...” she answered, and her hands found her tome by the side of the fur bed. “No. There... might not be... another day. Might not be another meal... Unless someone lights the way... for you.”

“You really haven’t changed”, Lucia said, but she was smiling again. “I still cannot tell what drives you. Just stay right by me, all right?”

 

\---

 

It wasn’t as dark outside as Ilyana had thought it would be. Begnion’s Army of Order emitted a blessed shimmer that lit up their surroundings, and they carried torches, too. It was way easier to see what was going on than Ilyana had expected.

The front line was obliterated by Tibarn’s two trusted friends, while the King himself took the risk of flanking the archers with Queen Elincia.

Ilyana knew this because staying with Lucia meant always knowing _exactly_ where Queen Elincia was on the battlefield. Lucia didn’t even need to try, it was like a deeply ingrained instinct, it seemed.

“We’ll intercept those east-line archers”, Lucia breathed to Ilyana, one hand on her arm, before she’d taken off.

The two of them rushed through the covers of the brushwood, and hit into the white knights in shining armors. Which was expected, but Ilyana’s breath still halted.

It was time to fight.

Lucia was a whirlwind, but her feet were still always in contact with the ground below. Her sword reflected the light from Ilyana’s fire spells.

Ilyana’s head felt like it wasn’t a part of her body. Like it was stuffed full of clouds. She missed half of her spells, and her legs barely carried her, but she wouldn’t give in. She cast another succession of spells, lightning and fire dancing in her veins and crackling before her eyes.

Lucia’s sword hit into the visor of a spear knight, effectively stunning him. Ilyana tried to finish the job with a shot of lightning, but was torn down by the collar of her robes before she could aim. Her spell arched up into the sky, as the wind was knocked out of her when she hit the ground.

It was Lucia’s hand that had pulled her down, and it was Lucia’s hand that caught the blade aimed for the back of Ilyana’s head, too. It was a parry so smooth, Lucia’s troubled face didn’t fit into the picture.

Ilyana tried to roll and get up again, but then she was hit into the ground again as Lucia stumbled over her. The silver sword still soared through the firelight, but every hit only bounced back.

There were two enemy knights’ remaining, and their armor was reinforced by _something_. Lucia’s deadly strokes barely halted them. They were hacking at her now, two against one. It was only a matter of time until even someone as extraordinary as Lucia grew tired and sloppy.

Ilyana got to her feet, one arm held in front of her face, the other extended above Lucia’s shoulder.

“Oh... dear”, Ilyana breathed.

Lightning seared past Lucia’s short hair. It left one half of Lucia’s hairdo frizzled and static, and one of the men unmoving on the ground.

Whatever magic was in the enemy’s armor, it wasn’t protecting against _that_ , it seemed.

Not a moment passed before Ilyana was hooked by Lucia once more, and she found herself on the ground again. Which was fair enough, good call on Lucia’s part since Ilyana wasn’t very good at dodging in her current state.

But battles were her profession, believe it or not. And she did notice things. First off, she stabbed a spell of fire into the foot of the remaining attacker, which gave Lucia’s blade an opening to end him.

Secondly, Ilyana noticed Queen Elincia. She was facing off alone against two Pegasus knights, and the hawk laguz were too far away to help her. Lucia was stuck on the ground, with a sword that didn’t reach very far.

Magic did, though.

Ilyana sucked the last ounce of lighting magic from her tome, and sent it right at the enemy sky knights, like a blue and crackling javelin.

And she didn’t miss, this time. The Pegasus knight got enough of a shock to allow Elincia’s sword to cut through. And then the Queen was on even skies again.

Maybe it wasn’t the best choice on Ilyana’s part to choose to help from across an entire battlefield, but Elincia was too important to be harmed. Important to the war, the world, and Lucia. Draining herself had to be worth it.

 

Ilyana sunk down on her knees and closed her tome. She knew when battles were over – when the noise got scattered instead of constant, when it got distant rather than close... Then Ilyana could rest. Not that she had much of a choice, because her body wouldn’t let her stand up.

The tip of Lucia’s sword dug down into the earth beside her, while Elincia’s met its mark on the second knight. The hawks clawed their way from the flanks, and Tibarn plunged on where the general probably hid themselves. His screech once again left Ilyana cold, but then something brushed against her hand and left her warm instead.

Morning came slowly, but Ilyana could see the shine of Lucia’s smile, still. She looked like she was moments away from laughing.

“My hair feels funny”, Lucia said.

“Oh... Oh no”, Ilyana responded. “I’m sorry.”

“Why do you apologize? You saved my hide. I was just making a joke.”

“Well... I wouldn’t want you to be sad over your hair”, Ilyana stumbled.

“How could I possibly be? First, I lost it in service of my queen, and now I lost some more being saved by an old friend. If that’s all I need to sacrifice for those opportunities, I’ll gladly take them.”

Something about how she said ‘ _opportunities_ ’ made Ilyana chilly again. Or perhaps that was her blood pooling, her body too tired to keep up the tension. And her shin hurt. A lot.

She sat up straight, examined her leg. It was a bit grimy, and it hurt when she poked at it.

“I... am injured”, she said. “I feel fine, though. Or... not worse.”

Lucia’s tone shifted instantly. “Oh! Ilyana, lie down! Here, give me your leg, and put it on my shoulder.”

“I don’t think that’s...”

Truth was, she was afraid of everything being weird again. Lucia wanted to do a sort of re-uptake of their friendship, and Ilyana wanted the same, it was just—

Lucia’s hand was warm against her shin, even through her socks. She grasped Ilyana’s ankle without hesitation and put her leg against the front of her shoulder. It was a bit of an awkward position, but Ilyana’s head felt a little bit less swimmy with that, so she didn’t protest very much.

“Your clothes...” was all Ilyana managed as an objection.

“You think I care for my clothes over my dear Ilyana? I’d walk around in rags if it’d help you.”

Ilyana’s heart skipped a beat, and her head got swimmy again, but she smiled a little. “You’d look... beautiful in anything.”

Lucia merely gave a delighted laugh.

 

\---

 

Talking was easier after that.

Whenever they mentioned each other in third person, they’d be sure to emphasize _friend_. That’s what they were. _Friends_. They’d never officially broken up, though. Ilyana had just sort of assumed.

But now they could talk, the way friends did. Beneath the shelter of a tent, a cup of delicious soup in their hands (defeating the old Senator had granted them enough supplies for a fourteen-day feast, to Ilyana’s delight), they would laugh over memories both old and new. Looking out over the deathly quiet villages below the hills, they’d speak of more somber things. Though Ilyana had never felt more comfortable.

“Weren’t you afraid?” Ilyana asked, as Lucia told her the tale of her capture, and the horribly theatrical execution that had followed.

“Of death? Perhaps.” Lucia stroked a thumb over her own lips, the way she did when she was thinking. “But with the chance of dying for my liege, my sister in all but blood – I couldn’t imagine anything more fitting. I was smiling at her the whole way through. I knew Elincia was strong enough to see me die, as long as I showed her I’d welcome that fate.”

Ilyana wanted to take her hand. Lucia had been so close to fall to the gallows, all while Ilyana did... what? Stroked around corners, dreaming of her next meal? That line of thinking was not very common in her mind, but what if Ilyana had been there with her? Had she’d been able to help, or—

“Were _you_ afraid, Ilyana?”

“Oh... what?”

“You were captured, too.”

Ilyana reared back a little, breathing another ‘ _oh_ ’. She’d half-forgotten.

“I was more... sad about the awful food they served, honestly.” She scowled at the memory, wrinkled her nose. “It was... _despicable_.”

“Oh, strong word”, Lucia teased her. “You must have been _truly_ upset.”

“Yes! I... avenged my empty belly”, Ilyana continued the joke, raising a fist and scowling even further. “I wanted... _juice_ -stice!”

It was the worst pun in the world (Ilyana really didn’t do puns to begin with), but for some reason that had Lucia laughing beyond all control. And it was nice.

It was nice, being friends again.

 

\---

 

War wasn’t so bad with Lucia around. Ilyana wouldn’t miss it – especially not since she’d walked up endless stairs the week before – but she would miss _her_.

They might go their separate ways again, this time. And if that was what Lucia wished, of course it’d be fine, but... This clash of goddesses might have been a grand mess, but it was also a second chance of sorts. While their last romance had been brief and _luminous_ (a word Ilyana picked up from Lucia and she just couldn’t stop using it), this joining of paths was slower and more... Steady.

It felt sturdy, and homely. This was a friendship she treasured but what if, what _if_ , their hearts could beat as one again, too?

Maybe that wasn’t possible. All Ilyana knew now was that nineteen-year-old Ilyana had been a fool to leave.

She’d not repeat that mistake, now. But how should she say it? She just knew she’d stumble and stutter and finally collapse if she tried to form her feelings into words, and Lucia would be none the wiser. No... Ilyana needed help, before it was too late. Professional help.

 

The evening before they’d leave Begnion’s capital, Ilyana made sure to book a table in the corner of the inn closest to the palace. She’d ordered her third steak, while the space opposite hers was only occupied by a mug of ale.

“So...” Heather’s fingers tapped against the rim of her mug, a crooked smile beneath her sparkling eyes. “A gorgeous girl like you, having love troubles?”

Ilyana bit into her steak, her cheeks flushing. She’d avoided answering most of Heather’s questions by pretending to be busy eating (she _was_ busy eating, though). She’d told Heather enough for her to guess what this was about, but maybe her imagination ran wilder than Ilyana accounted for.

“Let’s see”, Heather listed, “you’re interested in someone who’s tall, dashing, lovely, kind— Oh, no, wait, it isn’t _me_ you’re talking about, is it? I’m flattered, dear Ilyana, and I would take that chance if I were available, but Nephenee and I—“

Ilyana turned bright red and shook her head as viciously as she could without appearing too rude. “No”, she said with a distressed mumble, her mouth full of steak. “No, no, i’s ‘ucia!”

Heather’s hand left the mug, her mouth forming an _o_. “But of course! By the patron of shadows, you’re right! Lucia... She’s all of that, and more – good taste, dear Ilyana, good taste! I too have imagined kissing her in the dark basements we sulked around in together – well, once or twice. Queen Elincia sort of stole my attention, to be honest.”

Lucia had only briefly told Ilyana of hers and Heather’s adventures, but if it had involved kissing, would Lucia have told her, or—?

Well, it was none of Ilyana’s business. She was here for a reason, and she’d see it done. She swallowed her steak, feeling a bit more confident with a full belly.

“I’m shy”, Ilyana explained. “I don’t... know how to tell her... I want to be with her again.”

“Oh, _again_?” Heather brushed her chin, her thoughtful gaze searching the ceiling. “Hmm, hm, that’s a different sort of challenge from what I’m used to. Was it a bad break-up, last time? Lots of yelling and heated feelings?”

“Uhm”, Ilyana stumbled. “Uh, no, we just sort of... drifted apart.”

“Mmmm, not good, _not_ good, would have preferred the heated feelings... You’re friends now, though, yeah?”

“Yes... Maybe... even better friends than before.”

“Huh”, Heather chuckled, curling her fingers around the mug again. “Well that’s definitely unfamiliar for me. But you asked for my wisdom, and here you have it – all good relationships start with friendship. Sure, maybe sometimes you got other things in mind, but even the short-and-breezy needs a lotta mutual respect, which is kind of like a friendship-pact or something. And— Uh—“

Heather took a swig of her ale, then put it to the side.

“I’m getting ahead of myself”, she snorted. “What I’m telling you is, you’ve got a good shot.”

If Heather said so, it had to be true. She’d flirted with half of Tellius at this point (according to herself, and why would she lie about that?), so if anyone knew  _anything_ about romance between girls, it had to be her. Ilyana felt much better. She put both her hands on the table, allowing herself to be eager. 

“What do I say, then?” she asked. 

“It's not about _TALKING"_ ; Heather answered with a dramatic flick of her wrist. "You have to speak with your _body_! Like this!” 

Heather slammed her hand down on Ilyana's, and leaned over the table. Their noses almost touched, and Heather's eyes were intensely pinned into Ilyana's.  

“Uh—" 

“And now", Heather breathed, “you tell her how _beautiful_ she is. Comment on the details of her eyes, her cheeks, her impressive scars... And if that makes you nervous, just shroud it in a smooth line, got it?” 

Ilyana did, in fact, _not_ get it. 

Heather leaned back a little, but still kept her hand wrapped around Ilyana's. “You say, perhaps... ‘ _What's up biscuit, are you just standing here crumbling?_ ’” 

Ilyana's hand was getting sweaty. “What does that mean?”

“It doesn't mean anything on its own. Except that you state that you're flirting.” 

“That sounds... odd." Ilyana tried to focus on Heather's gaze without squinting, but that was easier said than done. "I don't think I understand...” 

“Well, it’s not _that_ complicated, it’s just—ah, NO—" Heather let go of Ilyana's hand with a shout, her eyes on the door. 

Ilyana followed her gaze, and her heart sank in her chest as she saw Lucia's back disappear through the door. 

“Well, shit", Heather said, and summarized Ilyana's thoughts exactly (not that Ilyana would ever say something so vulgar).

Lucia must have seen them, must have assumed... Ilyana stood, but got no further. Like she'd forgotten how to walk. 

It was Heather that got her moving again. She grabbed Ilyana's shoulders and pushed her in front of her. 

“You don't have a choice now", Heather said with determination. “You go after her and tell her exactly what you feel, ya hear? Don't hesitate!” 

Ilyana got no time to object, because before she knew it, she was stumbling through the door, and along the road.  Somehow, Ilyana didn't trip. She kept her balance, and her eyes found Lucia walking briskly back toward the palace.

“Lucia..." Ilyana mumbled into the air. "Wait...” 

She wasn't running dramatically and shouting Lucia’s name, like the heroine of a story. She was half-walking, half-stumbling, and mumbling incoherently. With her short legs it was a wonder she caught up to Lucia at all.

But she did. And Lucia looked down on her with a small smile.

“Ilyana, you needn't come this far just to say hi. I was looking for you, but I didn't know you were busy. Go back, enjoy your night. We can speak tomorrow.” 

“No", Ilyana said. “I mean... no, me and Heather _weren't_ busy.” 

Lucia arched a brow at her. “You kind of looked the part. Really, Ilyana, Heather's lovely, you shouldn't keep her waiting like this.” 

Ilyana's heart hurt from all this kindness. Or was it indifference? Did Lucia perhaps not care at all? 

“Heather was... teaching me things", Ilyana explained. “She was preparing me...” 

“For what? “ 

“Talking", Ilyana forced out. 

Lucia smiled at her. “Yes, Heather is very good at that. But you can talk just fine, can you not, Ilyana?” 

“No... I wanted to... About you!” 

“Me?” 

“Yes, that you're a... crumbly biscuit...” 

“What in the world does that mean?” 

Ilyana's mind blacked out completely. This was a lost case, and she released every tether on her mind and just let herself blab.

“And... I LOVE crumbly biscuits!” Her cheeks burned, and the air she breathed was hot. “They're like treasures, they're warm, and where they are is where HOME is, and I LOVE them.” 

Lucia simply stared at her. “You... Love me, then?” 

“... Yes...” Ilyana probably breathed fire at this point. If it wasn't for those three steaks, she would have fainted a long time ago.”I'd like to... be with you... and stay with you, too. I don't want to walk away this time.” 

Lucia leaned forward, and Ilyana was reminded that she'd forgotten to take her hand the way Heather had showed her. Maybe she was beyond being saved by Heather's tips. 

But Lucia smiled, with tears in her eyes. She brushed a strand of hair behind Ilyana's ear. 

“Yes please", Ilyana answered this unspoken question. 

And so, Lucia kissed her. 

“Sweet Ilyana", she breathed when they broke apart. “You're really something else.” 

“Is that good?” Ilyana said softly back. 

“Yes. Yes, it is.” 

Ilyana got up on her toes and put her arms around Lucia's shoulders.

 

She really did smell like home.


End file.
